


Golden

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: Tangled (2010), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Captivity, Community: kink_bingo, Dubious Consent, Incest, M/M, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:52:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>And tomorrow night, lights will appear</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Just like they do on my birthday each year</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden

The war is long, and bloody. Loki has gathered an army, and his own seidr is formidable. Thor is barely trained, and yet finds himself in the midst of battle, felling monsters left and right. Sif fights by his side, tells him to stay strong. "We can do this," she says, and her reassurance is calming, her presence a rock that steadies him.

He'd married her, before the war started. She told him him that it did not matter that he had never learnt the ways of the sword, that she would protect him, and the kingdom, until he learnt to defend himself. "You are the son of Odin," she said. "The power was always within you."

"The Lady Sif is a good choice," Frigga said on their wedding day, and when she enveloped him in a hug it took all his will not to break himself free. "We will be rid of all of this madness soon enough, you will see."

She did not understand, and neither does Sif.

It was always meant to be him and Loki, in the end. 

The tower is shorter than he remembers it. He finds the door unlocked, walks the winding steps up to his former home. It is spotless, not a speck of dust covers the surface of the room, and yet somehow feels abandoned.

"Have you come to finish me, brother," Loki says. He looks exhausted, his pale face even paler than usual. 

Thor hangs Mjolnir off his belt, says, "Not yet." 

"I will not surrender. So I hope you are prepared to kill me. I do hope they have trained you well." 

"Better than you did," Thor says, and Loki flinches, retreats into the darkness. 

"I did the best I could." 

 

*

 

Loki comes up to his room, after returning from the market. Thor runs to the doorway, pretends that he hasn't been sitting by the window sill, waiting for his return up the winding path to the tower.

"So how was the market today," Thor asks, brimming with excitement. 

Loki hums in response, sits down at the table and sets the basket aside. He picks up a piece of bread, delicately butters it. "Strawberries are in season," he says. 

Thor brightens.

"I forgot to get any." 

"Oh." 

"No, of course I remembered, don't be silly."

Thor isn't allowed to peek into the basket until after Loki's washed his hair, seidr doing the job that his hands cannot. When every strand is wet, washed and then dried again, Thor sits down at the base of the rocking chair, for Loki to painstakingly brush out each and every knot. He never uses seidr for this - Thor's asked why and only received a smile in response.

Thor says, "I saw a mockingbird outside today. It perched on the windowsill, and flew into my hand when I offered it some seeds." 

"You are very lucky," Loki replies, and the hand brushing his hair stills. "Mockingbirds bring good fortune."

Thor brightens somewhat, twists his head so he can see Loki more clearly. "Perhaps it is a sign that I may go out soon." 

Loki sighs, and looks deeply disappointed. "You know you can't do that." His hand comes up to caress Thor's cheek. "We need to keep you safe, Thor. I don't know what I would do with myself if something were to happen to you." 

They have had this same conversation many times before, with only slight variations. Thor turns back, sighs. "But it's almost my birthday," he says. "It will be my fifteenth year, brother. Surely I am old enough." 

"I am sorry, Thor," Loki says, and sounds truly regretful. "But it's not wise." 

"I know you worry." 

"I do."

Thor lowers his head, allows his hair to fall in front of his face, a golden wave.

-

Thor's unsure as to what changes Loki's mind, but one morning he snaps, "Fine, if you want to go outside so much, let us." Thor finds his eyes widening, and remains speechless until Loki beckons him forward with some measure of impatience. "We need to get you ready."

"Ready how?"

"So that those who might do you harm will not be able to recognize you." Thor tilts his head up and beams as Loki continues to mutter, "You are a foolish, wretched boy."

"And you are my favorite brother." Thor rises onto the tips of his toes, plants a kiss on each of Loki's cheeks. "This is better than any birthday present you could give me."

Loki's pale face turns curiously pink. "Do not thank me yet. We are only to go to the market and back again." He brushes away a wayward lock of hair from Thor's face with some measure of gentleness. "See what charm you are capable of when you are not sulking."

"I never sulk."

Loki snorts. He takes Thor's face into his hands, says, "You will do exactly as I tell you, yes?"

Thor nods, with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. 

Before they leave, Loki binds Thor's hair in braids all around his body, until he can barely breathe. Then he puts Thor in a robe and pulls the hood over his head. 

"It's too tight," Thor complains fitfully. "Why can't I just go out like this?"

"Why do I have to put up with your incessant questions? And always the same questions, as well. Why can't I go out, brother? Why can't I leave? And then I let you go out and you whine as well." 

Thor clamps his mouth shut, settles on glaring his displeasure. Loki rolls his eyes. His hand lingers on Thor's collarbone as he adjusts the robe, and Thor exhales, finds his anger fading away. "Thank you for letting me go out today," he says.

The flush returns to Loki's cheeks. "Come along," he says. "We need to go early or the best produce will be gone."

The walk to the market is short, but Thor finds that he cannot help but stop every few steps. He tilts his head back, basks in the heat of the sun. "It is the very same sun that shines into your window every morning, Thor," Loki says.

"No, it is different. The air tastes different as well." Fresh, and crisp, and cool. Quite unlike how stifling it gets in the tower, even in winter, when the land turns cold and dark and Thor is reduced to huddling in furs while Loki stokes a fire and is unhappy over the heat. The cold is to Loki what heat is to Thor, and even in this mild weather he looks uncomfortable.

"Come along, I said."

The market is too crowded, with far too many people pushing and shoving at him. Thor sticks close to Loki, but even gripping Loki's hand does not help. His vision turns black as his chest constricts, and he finds himself unable to breathe. Loki leads him away to an alleyway, pushes him against the wall. "I did warn you this was not a good idea. Now breathe." 

"I'm trying - what do you think -" He takes a break, or tries to: his ribs are tight against his chest and his throat has closed up.

Loki pushes the hood off Thor's head and pulls him close, rubs his hand down the middle of his back softly, soothingly. "There, there," he says. "We will return home immediately. All will be well." 

Thor pushes himself away. "N-no. I've been waiting for this for so long. Please, Loki."

Loki sighs. "It's too late now. All the best produce will be gone soon, and I cannot wait for you." 

"I promise I will be fine." 

Loki examines his face for the longest time, then nods. "We will be quick, and you will not wander off."

Thor follows Loki back into the marketplace, and holds on to his hand tightly.

Loki stops at a fruit stall, smiles at the woman who runs it. She's very blonde, hair almost as gold as Thor's is, and she smiles brightly at Loki as he picks up an apple. "They come in fresh today." 

"That's what you always say."

"They are always fresh for you," she replies, and her smile broadens. 

Thor tightens his grip on Loki's hand, to the point where Loki gasps and slides an annoyed gaze in his direction. Thor pushes his hood back with his free hand, blinks at her. "Hello," he says, and can hear Loki's exhalation of anger.

"Well, hello there," the woman says, turning a warm smile in Thor's direction. "I've not seen you around here before." 

"He's visiting," Loki says, and from the warmth in his voice Thor knows he's furious. "We will take the apples, my love. Thank you." He takes the packet of apples and grabs Thor by the arm, propels him away before Thor has a chance to properly talk to the woman. "Enough," he hisses under his breath. "What did I tell you? Do you realize what kind of danger you have put yourself in? Put us?" 

Thor wrenches himself away, pushes the hood back up. "I'm starting to believe there's no one trying to hurt me. Perhaps you've been lying all this while." 

Loki's expression turns wounded, almost immediately. "And why would I lie? Look at how much I have sacrificed to take care of you. Do you think I wanted the burden of raising a rambunctious terror of a child? I could be travelling the realms, exploring all of their wonders, and instead I am here, having to deal with your tantrums and your ungratefulness." He turns his head to the side and swallows, the beginnings of tears forming at the edges of his eyes. "I am returning home now. You may follow me, or you may not. I do not take responsibility either way."

Thor follows.

He does not beg to venture out, after that.

-

Sometimes Loki brings back flowers with the thinnest of stems, in the most vibrant of colors, blues and reds and purples, and even dark green when the rarest of flowers are in bloom. He sits Thor at his feet and braids them into his hair, patiently binding them together while he hums a familiar song under his breath. 

Their mother used to sing them this lullaby, Loki tells Thor. Before they came for her, and father as well. 

Thor fidgets, says, "You can just use seidr if you must."

"But that defeats the point."

Thor twists around, which earns him a light tug on the hair Loki is holding on to. "What is the point?"

"The point is for you to learn patience."

"I feel the point is for you to torture me."

Loki laughs, and gives another gentle tug to Thor's hair.

But the scent of the flowers and the steady feel of Loki's fingers threading through his hair always sends a pleasant shiver through Thor's body, and after a while he will doze off. He will awaken tucked into bed, braids neatly laid out around him, and Loki will be gone.

-

Thor has books. He's not particularly fond of them, but Loki insists he's well-read, and it's better than cleaning or cooking. Loki used to read to him when he was younger, Thor tucked against his chest and Loki's chin resting on his head as he flipped through the pages. Thor was always impatient to get to the end, but Loki always read from front to back, even if was a story they had read dozens of times before. 

Thor's favorite books are of adventure, of dashing warriors and comely maidens, of rescues and exotic lands and wild beasts to be slayed. Loki usually obliges, except the once, when he snapped the book shut and said, "I will tell you a story that I never have before."

"Yes?"

"It is the story of a prince, borne by the Queen of Ice, who fell for the charms of the King of the Sun in a moment of weakness. The child was given to to the king, to be raised by him and his wife as their own."

Thor frowned. "Is there adventure in this story? Does he become a great warrior?"

"There is more to life than adventure and conquest. But no - he was raised to be king, as the only child in an otherwise barren marriage. He was a mischievous boy, but harmless, really. Charming, and delightful in his way. And then one day, the queen found herself with child, a miracle unforseen by all - even the seers who once proclaimed that the young half-breed prince was the only hope the kingdom had for an heir. The queen had a baby boy, fair of hair and blue of eyes, and he was beloved by all that knew him." 

"And?"

"I think you know how this story ends. There is only room for one king, one heir to the throne."

"That's not fair," Thor said.

"Life isn't fair," Loki said, and his voice was the bitterest that Thor had ever heard. "Of all the lessons I have taught you, remember this one the best. We do not always get what we want, and those that don't deserve it sometimes do."

Thor plucks out a book from a bookshelf, hugs it to his chest as Loki enters the room. "I just wanted to be outside," he says. 

"It will come. When it's safe." 

"And when will that be?" 

Loki does not reply. Instead he extends his hand. Thor passes him the book, and he flips it open, a faint smile on his face. "Would you like me to read to you?" 

Thor shrugs, but he takes his usual spot next to the rocking chair when Loki sits down on it. "She seemed to like you," he says, before Loki begins. 

"Hmm?" 

"The woman." 

"I buy her fruit, and do not haggle for the price. Of course she likes me." 

"No, but more than that." 

"She's a fruit-seller. Whether she likes me or not is of no matter." Thor feels the heat rising to his cheeks as Loki continues, "Do you like her, then?" 

He shakes his head vehemently no. "It's not that." He has never - "Forget it," he says. "Just read."

-

Thor thinks about the woman that night, thinks about her cherry red lips and golden hair as he works his cock with his fist, but when he squeezes his eyes shut it's Loki that he sees, and Loki whose name he cries out as he spills his seed into his hand.

-

He cannot look at Loki when he comes for breakfast the next morning, until Loki snaps, "You aren't still sulking, are you?" 

"I am not sulking," Thor says, and tries to stop his bottom lip from sticking out. "How many women have you lain with?" 

Loki blinks. "That is not your business." 

"Of course it is my business. If I am to remain trapped here for the rest of my life, unloved and untouched -"

"And what does that have to do with _my_ bedding of women?" 

Thor colors, presses his palms to his heated cheeks. "You wouldn't understand," he says. Loki leans forward, takes his wrist into his hand, and Thor pulls away, rises to his feet. "Leave me be."

"No," Loki says, rising as well. "You will sit down, and finish your breakfast, and then I will brush your hair as I always do. I have had quite enough of your insolence these past few weeks." 

Thor's vision goes dark, and he reacts on instinct, upending the table between them with a roar, before he gathers his hair up and storms into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

When he finally emerges, red-faced from weeping, the table is back in its original position, and nothing is out of place. Loki sits calmly in the rocking chair, brush in his hand. He beckons Thor forward with it, and Thor sinks down at his feet, tosses his hair until Loki grabs a fistful of it. He brushes Thor's hair with a quiet viciousness, and it's only because Thor clamps his teeth together that he manages not to cry out.

Loki finally stops, and his voice is too near to Thor's ear when he speaks. "You are my brother, Thor, and I love you. I only want to keep you safe." 

Thor turns his head, tilts it up so their faces are barely apart. "I understand," Thor says. 

Loki's eyes darken, and his eyelashes flutter. He only pulls away, though, and leaves without another word.

-

Thor dreams of outside sometimes. Dreams of riding on a big white horse, hair streaming behind him as he flies through a forest, sunbeams breaking through the dark overhang of trees to warm his face. 

Sometimes he dreams of Loki sitting in the tower, alone and waiting for him to return. 

He wakes up from both dreams with tears on his face.

-

His birthday comes, finally. Thor stands at the window and watches for the coming storm. It seems that each year the storm is wilder, the scent of it sharp and cool as the lightning stretches for miles, as if calling out to Thor. He used to ask Loki what it meant, that it rained so heavily on this day and this day only. Loki merely shrugged, said, "It rains on other days as well, Thor. It is only on your birthday that you pay attention." 

"Fifteen," Loki says, from behind him. Thor turns as he is placing the cake on the table. "Chocolate and cherried rum. I know that's your favorite." 

"I want to go out," Thor says. He approaches the table as Loki lights the candle, leans down to blow it out. 

"Happy birthday, brother." 

"Did you hear me?" 

"I heard you. I just choose to ignore you." 

"I will take the risk. We will do it together, and I won't be afraid this time." 

Loki busies himself cutting the cake into precisely divided slices, offers Thor a plate. "Enough," he says. "Enjoy your birthday." 

"I made a wish." 

"We cannot always have what we wish for." There is a dark, dangerous gleam in his eyes. 

"You cannot keep me here forever." He puts the plate down, crosses his arms in defiance. "You are not my father, and I will do whatever I want -" Thor turns away, strides towards the door. Loki never locks it, only closes it behind him when he enters. "I will not be stopped."

He almost makes it out. Almost.

A rope wraps around his neck, and it takes Thor a moment to realize it's his own hair. More around his body, and then his legs. Thor twists, and goes down with a heavy thud and a growl. He scrambles to pull free, but cannot escape himself. 

Loki's face appears, and Thor kicks out at him, flailing and furious until Loki straddles him, says, "Stop it, now." Thor reaches out, but both his wrists are bound with thick locks of hair, and with a flick of Loki's fingers Thor finds them drawn up high above his head. "Calm down, brother. It is not my intention to hurt you." He sounds kind, now that Thor is entirely helpless. Thor glares at him, and his gaze softens even further. "I will release you if you stop struggling, and we can have a conversation as if we were both adults." 

In response, Thor bucks violently upwards, and almost topples Loki over. And then he stills, his breathing harsh and the only sound he can hear. 

"Oh," Loki says, and his eyes widen slightly.

Thor bucks up once again, but it only makes it worse. He can feel the flush spread across his cheeks, his secret shame bared for Loki to see. "Stop," Thor says. "Please let me go."

But Loki's eyes are still wide, and his mouth has fallen open slightly. "Thor," he says, and his voice is low, and thick. 

The hair tightens around Thor's body, and Thor has to stifle a moan as they sneak under his tunic to caress his bare skin. "Please stop, brother. Brother, please."

Lokis gaze softens, and he bends at the waist, presses a kiss to Thor's forehead, his nose, his cheeks. His lips hover over Thor's, and it's Thor who breaches the space between them, Thor who kisses Loki, in that way he's only read about, fantasized about. He opens his mouth, and Loki's tongue slides into it and out again, then back in, as each thick lock of hair on his skin tightens and loosens in kind. 

Thor stares up at him, dazed, when Loki breaks the kiss and sits up. "Stop," Thor says, and then he says, "No."

"No - don't stop, or No - stop?" Loki asks the question as if he will do whatever Thor says, as if he will release Thor immediately if he asks him to. 

"I can't," Thor says, and he's choking as strands wrap themselves around his neck. Loki kisses him again then, sweetly, softly. "Please," Thor says, almost incoherent. He's on fire: everything burns. 

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, yes." He arches up into Loki yet again, says, "Yes," one more time.

Loki takes him to the bed, lays his hair out beneath him like a soft golden blanket before he undresses them both, painstakingly not using seidr to do so. Thor whines, and grabs at Loki's clothing, but all it does it make Loki wind strands of hair around his arms again, pin them down. "Release me," Thor says.

"In time."

He forgets to, or chooses not to, but by that time Thor's no longer asking, is gasping Loki's name instead, closing his eyes as Loki slides into him, the scent of oil and musk and the rain outside overwhelming him until he's giddy with it, until he cannot breathe yet again. 

"I -" Thor begins, as Loki's hand finally wraps itself around his cock, the gleaming gold strands of his hair twisted around his pale, naked arm. Loki looks surprised, and dimly, Thor is aware that it is not Loki that is in control of his hair. He can feel it, as if each and every strand is alive, as if each and every strand is alight with electricity, with _power._ "I am the lightning, and the sky, and the storm within," Thor says, and outside, the thunder rolls.

"Thor," Loki says, his face crumpling, and he collapses on top of Thor as Thor finishes, spilling hot and furious between them both.

-

"Listen," Loki says the next morning, as Thor is sitting by the window, idly braiding strands of his hair. It glows faintly as the light reflects off it, golden locks twirling around his fingers and creeping outside, as if anxious to reach the sunlight, to be free.

"Yes?"

Loki's face is drawn, his jaw tight. "Remember - remember that I'm your brother, and that I love you."

"Of course you are," Thor says. "And of course you do."

-

They come at dawn, mere days later. An army, led by a woman with dark hair and a face of wild determination. Thor watches from the tower with a broom in his hand, entirely useless and unable to defend himself. Loki yells, "Hide," and propels Thor into a closet before he can object, his hair pooled in waves around his feet. Thor rattles on the door, but finds that he is unable to open it, and his shouting goes unanswered.

So much noise, and he had only read what battle sounded like, not heard: a terrible, awful cacophony of noise, of swords clashing and bodies hitting the floor. Thor cannot hear Loki's voice in all the sound, although he strains.

And then, silence.

The door opens an interminable while later, revealing not Loki, but the warrior woman. There is blood streaked across her face, and the expression on her face is of such relief and joy Thor finds himself unable to swing the broom he holds in his hands. "Where is my brother," he says instead. "How dare you - if you have harmed him at all."

"My lord," she says, and breaks into a smile. "Oh, Thor. It is you after all."

"Who are you," Thor demands. "And how do you know my name?"

She steps back and stares, her eyes going wide. "Your hair," she says, and Thor flinches, but stands firm as his hair weaves around him protectively. "It _glows_."

 

*

 

Thor glances out the window, at the view he has not seen in years. "I used to dream of leaving this place," he says. "Of freedom." Loki laughs, a quiet little thing, and Thor reaches out a hand. "Come out into the light, Loki. Let us finish this." 

Loki takes a step forward, and then another, and Thor takes his face into his hands, kisses one cheek, and then another. "I liked your hair better when it was long," Loki murmurs, his breath cool against Thor's skin. "Where is your power now?"

"Where it belongs."

"In that hammer, forged at Odin's request?" His voice is bitter. "Just remember, what Odin bequeaths, he can just as easily take away, and at a whim. I learnt that lesson too late, take heed of my mistakes."

"I know all your mistakes," Thor says. 

Loki's face is still cradled in his hands. It is wet with tears, and fine lines have appeared around his eyes, but it's still Loki, who tucked him in at night, sang to him when he awoke from nightmares. Still the same hands that braided his hair, that knew where to touch him until he begged for it. 

"I missed you, brother," Thor says, and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> For the **pervertibles** square.


End file.
